There are things we don’t discuss
subjects we avoid like Voldemort
words we avoid
buoys in a sea of placidity.
We play Hot Potato with topics
that could destroy us
if we light on them for too long.
Instants of exposure
to such toxicity
could prove fatal
so we keep wide berth.

You know what I’m talking about
but you will speak of it
as little as me
to maintain our sea of placidity
and remain in in silent tranquility.
We keep mum on what was done
and speak of anything, anyone else,
lest we be blown apart
by our own words, ourselves.

I’m talking too much
about what cannot be said.
I know how near I skirt
to such zones of desolation.
I know what I dare
and I’m scared, too,
but the things we don’t discuss
risk destroying us.
We are so close to the end
maybe we should bear this fear
of dismemberment, rending us apart.
Maybe it’s time
to bring up the unspeakable.

Maybe today
we should finally talk about Anna.